132 The Divergent Paths of Humans and Ghosts

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In truth, Yang Tang knew that asking the young Japanese man was pointless; the City Planning Bureau would have the clearest records about whether there had ever been residential buildings on this street.

But since the street number matched, revisiting the old site—the “wife’s” former home now transformed into a Japanese dojo—some inexplicable dark fire welled up inside Yang Tang. Frustrated and with no outlet for his irritation, he brazenly strode forward, weaving through the crowd, and pressed the young Japanese man with questions that seemed utterly unrelated.

“What was this place before your dojo? Was it a shop, an office building, or something else?”

Though Yang Tang’s tone was calm and measured, Sato’s mind raced, desperately trying to recall what this storefront had been before the dojo opened.

Sato knew well that with his martial skills, he stood no chance against the man before him. The fear gripped him. Since China was now the world’s superpower, its martial arts circles had already declared a strict rule: any foreign martial artist wishing to teach their style here must unconditionally accept quarterly formal challenges from Chinese fighters.

These challenges were designed to constantly gauge overseas martial artists’ abilities, with China holding the initiative. No true martial artist from abroad would dare to open a school in China without real skills.

Of course, if an overseas martial artist could win several consecutive matches without causing trouble, they would gradually be accepted by the local martial arts community and gain a deserved reputation.

Sato had run his dojo here for a few years. For the first two years, challengers came often, but for the past year, hardly anyone had dared confront him. This quarter, he had yet to face anyone in a formal match. He feared Yang Tang’s sudden direct attack. Judging from Yang Tang’s ability to slip through people just now, Sato considered himself utterly outmatched. Should he lose, the hard-earned reputation he had built would be ruined, and maintaining the dojo would become an impossible task.

Sato’s third senior brother, Yamada, clearly understood this too. So, as Sato answered, “Before I opened the dojo, this place was a market,” Yamada silently slipped behind Yang Tang, raising his toe to strike Yang Tang’s tailbone without a sound.

Everyone present gasped in shock.

“Ah?!”

“Dodge!”

“Watch out!”

Only the old squad leader and sniper in the corner spoke quietly in unison, “It’s over.”

“Over? What do you mean over?” Qin Yilan looked puzzled. Just then, her vision blurred momentarily, as if countless shadows of legs flickered into existence and vanished.

Others felt the same—an instant flood of leg shadows, then suddenly gone, like lightning flashing across a clear blue sky.

At the same time, Yang Tang’s mind received the insight prompt: “Soul-Sealing Kick Technique, Three Deadly Moves—‘Man and Ghost Diverge’—cost 2.5 mana!”

Then, with a sharp “snap,” everyone’s eyes fixed on Yamada, who was sprawled several meters away, his entire body convulsing, unable to get up.

Yang Tang knew full well he had shattered Yamada’s left and right elbows and knees. He had held back; otherwise, Yamada’s neck vertebrae would have been pulverized, truly a “man and ghost diverging” fate.

A sharp intake of breath echoed through the crowd.

Qin Yijian asked, “Did you see that clearly, old squad leader?”

“No.”

Sniper said, “Impressive. Just with fists and feet, even if our entire squad attacked together, we might not be his match!”

Yang Tang felt no pride in this. Instead, he approached the young Japanese man’s side, who was in charge of recording the matches, snatched the camera from his hand, and said, “Give me this. I’ll replace it with a new one later.” Then he walked over to the person recording for Fan’s side and confiscated that camera as well.

After collecting both, Yang Tang casually returned to Sato and said coldly, “You saw just now, your man’s sneaky attack backfired. So, what do you say to this?” He lightly raised his hand.

Sato trembled at the gesture, immediately prostrated himself, and bowed deeply. “The Celestial Empire is a land of heroes and sages. To witness such a master in person today is my utmost honor! I beg your mercy for my third senior brother, who is already severely injured! Please spare him!”

Yang Tang sneered, “Then how do you explain your senior brother’s sneak attack?”

Sato was at a loss and remained prostrate. After a long wait, with no verdict forthcoming from Yang Tang, Sato’s body grew numb from bowing, while the murmurs around them grew louder.

“Hmm?”

Looking up, Yang Tang’s figure had vanished.

On Fan’s side, everyone wore expressions of pride and admiration; clearly, Yang Tang’s display of skill had amazed them. Meanwhile, on the young Japanese man’s side, all looked listless and dejected, as if their spirits had been crushed. Two even sat beside the half-paralyzed, gravely injured Yamada, weeping bitterly.

“That kid was so cool!”

“Yeah, seriously cool! Just a light spin, how did he kick again?”

“Cool or not, he didn’t even take a photo or sign an autograph for me—just left like that! So annoying!”

“Hey, Yilan, what are you staring at? Wasn’t that guy cool?”

Qin Yilan awkwardly replied, “Cool, cool.” He was definitely more handsome than Zhang Jin Zeng, no question.

“Hey, Jianzi, do you still want me to test the guy’s strength?” the old squad leader joked. “I want to, but I’m afraid I’d just embarrass myself with my skills!”

Qin Yijian said nothing.

Sniper said, “Boss, do you think there’s any chance we can recruit him into the squad?”

The old squad leader hesitated, then shook his head. “Not likely. Our unit has no precedent for special recruitment, and besides, the battlefield isn’t just about fists and feet.”

“But it can’t do without fists and feet, can it?” Sniper argued.

The old squad leader gave a noncommittal answer. “Unfortunately, we’re outsiders and can’t decide for him. Jianzi can report to Captain Qin. As an elder, he has more say in this matter.”

Qin Yijian nodded. “I’ll give it a try.”

Unbeknownst to them, Qin Yilan overheard their conversation and suddenly felt an urge—should she tell Yang Tang about this early? To do so or not?

Meanwhile, Yang Tang had already taken a taxi to the City Planning Bureau.

The bureau in this era was quite open. As long as it didn’t involve private or corporate data, other information could be accessed for a small fee.

Naturally, Yang Tang soon discovered that the predecessor of the Yoshikawa Aikido Dojo had indeed been a market. Before that, it was a residential building called “Jialing Mansion,” built in 1957 and demolished in 1991—just ten years ago. Before 1977, the building had served as unit dormitories for the Yujing Textile Corporation.

“That’s it, that building. But why does it say before 1977? And how could it have been demolished in 1991? What’s going on?”

Puzzled, Yang Tang dug deeper, trying to find out where the residents of Jialing Mansion had relocated after the demolition in 1991. However, such inquiries involved personal addresses, and the data was vague. The computer screen showed that after receiving compensation, only eight households had found new homes on their own, while the remaining 150-plus families were resettled in three separate communities. The City Planning Bureau didn’t have the detailed list, and even if they did, it was impossible to grant Yang Tang access.

“Oh, I can also check the old staff roster of Yujing Textile Corporation. I haven’t forgotten my mother-in-law’s name.”

With that in mind, Yang Tang took a taxi back to the Yujing Hotel and, once in his room, pulled out his laptop from his ring and powered it on.

After setting up proxies and compromised hosts as usual, Yang Tang quickly found the Yujing Textile Corporation’s website and hacked into its backend database with little effort.

He didn’t do anything else but mapped all encrypted data from the database onto a similar database on an overseas server, then began slowly decrypting and cracking it.

An hour later, Yang Tang was disheartened to find no female employee named “Gong” on the old staff list. There was no male “Gong” either.

“No mother-in-law? Or because of spacetime differences, she worked at another unit? Should I hack into the Yujing household registration system to check?”

Just as Yang Tang was hesitating, his phone notified incoming images—pictures of luxury cars, sports cars, and two villas, all labeled “Wan Hailiu.”

“Oh right, Old Wan is here. I’ll have him help check on my mother-in-law so I don’t have to hack all over the place. One slip-up would be disastrous.”

After reviewing the photos, Yang Tang called Wan Hailiu. After some small talk, they arranged the cars and villas, finally turning to the matter of “Ms. Gong.”

“Master, may I ask what your relationship with this Ms. Gong is?”

“Old Wan, some things are better left unknown. Just help me check the entire Yujing household system for a Ms. Gong Anping. She’s at least ten years older than me, originally from Hengshui, Hebei.”

“Understood, Master. I’ll have someone look into it. You’ll have news within 24 hours!” Wan Hailiu promised.

“Old Wan, don’t guarantee too quickly. I’m sure the woman’s surname is Gong, but I’m not certain about the given name Anping.”

“No problem. I’ll get a copy of all Gong women over thirty and sort it out.”

“That’s a good plan.”

Just as Yang Tang ended the call with Old Wan, another phone call came through—a number he didn’t recognize.

“Hello?”

“It’s me, Qin Yilan!”

“Heh, Sister Yilan, what made you call me?”

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